


Sometimes Quiet is Violent

by TheZiallHorlikBible



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, But not a drabble, Car Radio, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Louis quotes the poetry, M/M, One Shot, Overwhelmed, Poetry, Sadness, Short One Shot, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Tattoos, Too much quiet, a lot of emotion, hard to tag, spoken word poetry, steal my girl, twenty one pilots - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 16:45:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4443914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheZiallHorlikBible/pseuds/TheZiallHorlikBible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Harry has trouble finding the space between silence and too much noise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes Quiet is Violent

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Car Radio by twenty one pilots.   
> And by steal my girl.  
> And by Harry Styles' tattoos.  
> And by dear straight people by Denise Frohman  
> And by my friend Kaiden who said the last line to me way back when I was suicidal.   
> Enjoy.

Harry sat in the front seat of his Audi R8, tapping his thumb on the wheel anxiously when he was forced to stop at a red light. His mind was tugging him left and right, distracting and confusing and terrifying. He wanted to push the speedometer to its full 180, desperate to escape his thoughts. 

Instead he just waited politely, his thumb tapping quicker, lip caught between the death grip of his teeth, drawing some blood. 

He reached down, turning on the car radio with his nimble finger, needing to escape the silence, but his face went pale at the sound that his ears were assaulted with. And when the light turned green, he pushed the gas harder than he should have, familiar words spilling out of the speakers and into his eardrums. 

I don't exist if I don't have her, the sun doesnt shine, the world doesn't turn, alright.

And he knew that his driving was far from safe, but he felt reckless, listening to Louis' angelic voice, hands gripping tighter at the wheel. He pushed the speed, going faster than the legal limit, swallowing thickly as the chorus came on. 

His head was even busier then, reminding him of the fucked up situation that he had landed himself in. He was weaving between lanes. He was trying to drive away from something that could never be left behind. His mind was a roaring tornado of thoughts, almost loud enough to hear with actual ears. 

And then the song ended, and Harry reached down, muting the music once more. 

It had always been a struggle for him to find the safe place between silence and sound. The silence taunted him, allowing him to really be consumed by the viscous thoughts. But sometimes sound was worse. Sometimes the sound egged him on, pushing him inches closer to the edge of the metaphoric cliff. 

Some days, he wishes that he could be brave enough to step off. 

He forced himself to brake, slowing down to a safe speed. His breathing was shallow, and he had never quite experienced this kind of panic from his own fucking music. Sure, sometimes it annoyed him that he had to pretend to be straight. And sure, so,e days, he just wanted to kiss Louis tomlinson right in front of the bloody paps. 

But he never did. He just put on a smile and accepted everything that came with living his dream. 

When he was parked in front of his home, he parked, turning off the car and staring out the windshield. 

He closed his eyes, using one hand to shove his too-long hair out of his face. He knee that he should cut it, but he couldn't bring himself to let it happen. His hair had become a part of him. It was like a curtain that he could hide behind. A kind of strange security blanket to wrap himself in when an interviewer asked about his recent fling. 

He pushed the door open, staying still for a moment before getting up, grabbing what he had gone shopping for before slamming the door closed as hard as he could, breathing still shallow. 

When he entered the house, he listened, greeted by more silence. 

"fucking hell." he cursed underneath his breath, pulling his hand through his hair yet again before making his way to the bedroom where Louis was watching some movie that Harry didn't recognize. 

The smaller lad turned, eyes lighting up as he stared at Harry, "why he'll there, kind sir. I've missed you." he teased, shoving the duvet down and standing up, making his way over, only wearing a pair of black boxer briefs. 

Harry still hadn't spoken, pulling Louis in for a long, lingering kiss, holding his hips there with plenty of pressure. 

When Louis pulled back, he frowned, looking up at his boyfriend with a concerned expression,"Hey, Haz...look at me. What's wrong?" he asked, and Harry shook his head. 

"Harry. I'm serious...you've been acting strange the past couple of days. Why? We said no secrets." he pointed out, and Harry nodded, pushing past Louis and into their en suite, searching for a hair elastic and tying it up. 

He stared at himself in the mirror for a while, grim expression settling on his face. 

Louis walked in after him. He sighed annoyedly and hopped up onto the counter, "Haz. Really? What the fuck is wrong with-"

"I got a new tattoo today." he blurted out, and Louis quieted, nodding. 

"yeah, okay." 

More silence.

"It's a bible." 

Louis nodded, reaching over to touch his arm. "wanna let me see it?" he questioned softly, tilting his head a bit. 

Harry reached down, peeling away the gauze so that Louis could see the new ink. More silence. 

"it's over your things I can't tattoo." Louis said, frowning a bit, looking back up at Harry. The curly haired lad nodded, covering it up again and squeezing his eyes shut. 

"it all seems so fucking pointless." he said sadly, and Louis shook his head. 

"what seems pointless?" he asked, words a bit harsher, causing Harry to look over at him. 

"you know that I don't mean that." he snapped, leaving the bathroom, not quite making it to the bed, standing there and staring at it. It was empty and uninviting. 

Louis followed him out, arms crossed. 

"Why a bible?" and then more silence. Harry turned on his heels to face the smaller lad. 

"because I believe in God." he said, shrugging. 

"why did you cover your old tattoo?" he questioned, and Harry scoffed. 

"I dunno. Wishful thinking, probably." he said, closing his eyes and sitting on the edge of the bed, not speaking again until he felt the mattress dip beside him, swallowing thickly. 

"I just couldn't have it on my arm anymore." he tried to explain, shrugging and opening his eyes. 

"I couldn't look down and know that I can't do the things that I want to." he felt Louis grab his hand, forcing their fingers to interlace. The older lad pressed a tender kiss to his shoulder. 

"I guess...I just need to know that someone loves me...and ai don't mean like how you love me...or how the boys love me...or how my family loves Me. I mean...the people who fucking control my entire life. I want to know that someone who is controlling me actually cares about me." he forced out. More silence. 

"like God." Louis said softly, more to himself than to Harry. 

"you just want someone to look out for you. You want to know that there's a reason for all of the shit. That isn't weird Harry. That's normal." he promised, squeezing his boyfriend's hand gently. 

"I'm sorry that they made me change the words." he blurted out, closing his eyes again. 

"who made you change what words?" he asked, "I don't understand." he tried to explain, and Harry just shook his head. 

"in our songs. I'm sorry that they made us change the lyrics. I'm sorry that they make me look like a womanizer. I'm sorry that I can't say no. I'm sorry that there are so many things I can't. I'm sorry that they're making me go out on another date with Kendall. I'm sorry that they won't let me love you. I'm sorry that things aren't different. And I'm sorry that you fell in love with me." he said, voice cracking by the end. 

Louis sat there quietly, standing up and moving between Harry's legs, touching his cheek. "open your eyes, yeah? Look at me." he said, and Harry nodded, forcing his green eyes to open. 

"stop apologizing...stop focusing on all of the shit that doesn't matter." he said, shaking his head. "and start thinking about the things you can...I wish that you didn't regret falling in love with me...but I don't regret falling in love with you." he said softly.

Harry frowned. "I don't regret falling in love with you." he argued. "I feel bad that you fell in love with me...because you deserve mire than this." he said, and Louis just shook his head, pulling Harry in for a kiss, teeth clashing together. 

It was messy and desperate and angry, so many feeling forced into one action, Louis moving to straddly Harry's hips, hands on the larger man's shoulders while he kissed him like there was nothing else in the world. 

When he pulled back, Louis chuckled, shaking his head.

"you don't want them to see you so you change the pronouns in your love poems to him instead of her. I used to do that." he muttered, and Harry frowned. 

"what?" 

But Louis just shook his head, continuing on, "Dear straight people, you make young poets make bad edits." he added, and Harry just frowned deeper. 

"Lou, what the fuck are you talking about?" he questioned, and Louis finally made eye contact, smiling at his boyfriend sadly, allowing the silence in the room to catch up with him too, pulling him under and choking him. 

"they're Uh...lines from this poem." he explained. "it's called dear straight people. You should look it up...I think you'd like it." he said quietly, pecking Harry again. 

"they're just pronouns though, Haz...and there are worse things than changing the pronouns in your love songs from him to her." he whispered, caressing his cheek, "and as long as you're still here with me when no one else is around, I couldn't give a fuck about what they force you to do." he said seriously. 

"so tell me, is that why you've been so weird lately?" he asked, and Harry just nodded, laying down and staring up at the crisp white ceiling, almost as blank as the noise in the quiet room. 

"sometimes the silence...the emptiness is haunting." he whispered, shaking his head. 

Louis leaned over him, interrupting the nothingness with a goofy expression, wide grin stuck on his face. 

"have fun." he offered, shrugging. "make some noise and play with the echo." 

And Harry just stared at him. Suddenly, the quiet wasn't quite as scary.


End file.
